


This Little Game

by wilderwestqueen



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilderwestqueen/pseuds/wilderwestqueen
Summary: Viggo's games are dangerous to play, and when it all comes crashing down for Hiccup and Astrid, they have to make the most difficult choice of their lives: only one of them can come out alive.





	This Little Game

Viggo was by far the worst foe they had ever faced.  

He wasn’t like Alvin, able to be brought back by a kind word and forgiveness. He wasn’t like Dagur, too lost in his insane plans to actually be of any real threat. No, Viggo was cold and calculating, he was smart and manipulative, he was always six steps ahead of them, and most of all, he didn’t seem to have any compassion or remorse.

They had been trying, _oh, had they been trying_ , to take Viggo down, but it was to no avail. In this battle, they were children, fighting an unwinnable war against an invincible foe.

And they had lost.

Hiccup and Astrid sat inches apart, separated by the iron bars of the large cages they were trapped in. They swung from the air, high above the ground and far from the walls. When Hiccup looked up, he had seen that they were strung from a wooden pulley, a lever at the bottom made to crank and roll the cages down to the ground. If it hadn’t been for their predicament, Hiccup would have marvelled the contraption, for he had never seen anything quite like it.

“We’re never getting out of here,” Astrid grumbled, idly picking at her fingernails.

They had taken away all of her armour and weapons, and had even forced her to get rid of her armoured shoulder pads and skirt, left with nothing but her shirt and leggings. She felt oddly naked to Hiccup, and for a while he had found it hard to look at her, like he’d walked in on her getting dressed. Astrid hadn’t said anything about it, but Hiccup had noticed the way she kept crossing her arms over her form and tucking her legs up beside her chest, like she was trying to make herself as small as possible, and he knew she was uncomfortable too.

“We’ll figure something out,” Hiccup said. It was his repeat answer, the one he said over and over again when Astrid began to doubt everything.

Astrid sighed. Her fingers itched for action, and she longed for her axe, just so that she could have something to touch, something to fiddle with. Her legs were starting ache from lack of moving, and it took all of her power not to kick and scream against the bars. It wouldn’t do any good.

“Three days, Hiccup,” she said. “Face facts. If we haven’t figured something out by now we won’t ever.”

“The rest of the riders will find us.”

Astrid shifted and let her head rest against the bars of the cage. “They don’t know where we are. _We_ don’t know where we are. Where would they look?”

“The dragons will escape.”

“They’d have done it by now.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

Astrid sighed again, this time for longer. Quiet fell between them, and the only sound to be heard was the creaking of the cages moving ever so slightly. Astrid shifted forward, kneeling on the side of the cage that faced Hiccup.

“Hiccup?” she said.

“Mmm?”

“I think we might have to face facts that we’re not getting out of here.”

Hiccup’s jaw clicked and he dug his fingernails into his palm. “No,” he said, through gritted teeth. “I’m not accepting that.”

Astrid felt a rush of irritation bubble up through her. “And I don’t want to either, but we’ve been here for three days, we haven’t seen anything of Stormfly or Toothless nor have we heard anything from the rest of the riders, and I want you to stop acting like there’s a chance if we think hard enough. We can’t ‘Hiccup’ our way out of this one, no matter how hard we try.”

She said it all in one breath, one word rushing over the next, her voice hitching by the end of it. Hiccup sat through it all and stared at her, before sighing and running his hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t like to be locked up.”

“No one does,” she said, but her voice was a little high.

Hiccup felt shame then, shame for forgetting about Astrid’s claustrophobia, and getting the two of them into this mess. If he had just been a little less determined and a little more careful, then…

“Sorry,” he repeated, tapping the back of his head against the bars, his eyes shut. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

More quiet.

“Hiccup, if we don’t make it out of here, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Don’t.” Hiccup’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t.”

“Hiccup, I-”

“Don’t say it,” Hiccup said, his voice firm, his features screwed up. “Don’t say it if it’s going to be the last time we say it.”

“Why?”

His voice was quiet again, nothing more than a whisper. “I have to believe we have a chance.”

All at once Astrid felt a little guilty for bringing up the hopelessness of their situation. She realised now that it wasn’t that he really believed there was a still a way out, but that he _needed_ to believe there was.

“Oh, Hiccup,” Astrid sighed, as Hiccup’s face scrunched up. She threaded her arm through the gap in the bar and reached out her hand to take his, and the two sat there for the moment, holding onto each other, the last little lifeline they had left.

Astrid was about to say something more when the door to the cell swung open with a crash, and the two of them snatched their hands away from each other.

“Well,” Viggo said, as he entered the room. “Here they are. My two favourite prisoners, stuck together. Aren’t you glad that my little game got you both here together? Weren’t you just both so desperate for quality time together? Well, now you have all the time in the world.”

Astrid kicked against the bars, sending a cacophony of noise all around the room when the metal hits the wall.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” Viggo said, smiling. “I can see why he likes you.”

Hiccup did nothing but glare furiously down at Viggo, his fingers gripping against the bars.

“It’s so sad to see this little game of ours end, but all games must, otherwise there would be no victor,” Viggo drawled, pacing the floor. “And there must always be a victor. So here’s my play, Hiccup. One of you leaves these cages tonight. One of you dies. It’s your choice.”


End file.
